


see it in your eyes

by CyrusBreeze



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 17:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17411555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: Prompt: Someone leaves behind a baby at the station. Vic is the only one there because she has desk duty and everyone else is out. Chief Ripley comes by and they take care of the baby together. There is a spark.Written for Day One of Station 19 Theme Week: Heat, Oxygen, Fuel, Chemical Chain Reaction or Pre-Canon/Pre-Relationships





	see it in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madnephelite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnephelite/gifts).



> This was supposed to be sweet and fluffy and then it wasn't. I have so many feelings right now, just. 
> 
> Trigger warnings for references to suicide and (safe) child abandonment.

Victoria Hughes doesn’t hate babies. She doesn’t particularly love them either. They’re cute and small but they’re so _fragile_ and _breakable_.

When Vic’s niece was born, Vic’s sister had to sit her down and practically force her to hold the baby. And it was terrifying. 

A small whimper jolts Vic from her thoughts, and Vic stares at the baby before her. She’s so small, according to the note left with the baby’s basket, she was 6 pounds and 3 ounces when she was born. Vic thinks that the baby looks smaller than that, but she’s got no way to measure it. The note also says that the baby’s name is Julianna, which Vic thinks is a massive name for such a little girl. But she’ll grow into it, perhaps. 

Julianna whimpers again, and it looks like she’s moments from letting out a full on whine. Whoever left Julianna at the station left her with some formula and a few diapers, so if she’s hungry or wet, Vic can feed or change her if necessary.

Julianna’s face scrunches together and Vic sighs. She has seconds to react before Julianna is screaming and harder to soothe. 

Vic bends down and picks up the tiny baby gingerly, careful to support her head and do all the things she learned when holding her niece. 

Julianna whimpers quiet as Vic picks her up. 

“Hello, Julianna,” she says softly, placing Julianna in the crook of her arm. “That’s a big name for such a little girl, isn’t it?” She says. 

Julianna stares curiously up at Vic. 

“Can I call you Julie?” Vic asks. “That’s better, huh?” 

Julie fidgets, making herself comfortable in Vic’s arms. 

Vic settles into her chair, hyper aware of the fact that if she drops Julie, it could be deadly. Newborns were so breakable. 

Vic glances at her watch. Social services said that they would be there in two hours, which is remarkably slow given the circumstances. But Seattle’s Social services is overworked and understaffed and with the Christmas holiday, they had several workers out. Add in the fact that it was 1 in the morning and there was no one available to pick up the baby until later. Dispatch was supposed to send over a fire officer, but Vic didn’t know when they were supposed to arrive. The entire team is out cleaning up an apartment fire that burned to the ground, and Vic is only safe because of a sprained ankle. She's glad that she was here however, as it's too cold for a baby to have been out there for long. 

Julie is content for now, and that’s what important. 

Vic focuses on the baby and tries not to let her mind wander. If she thinks too hard about this or for too long, then she knows that it’s going to become difficult for her. She’s at work right now, and she can’t afford to become an emotional wreck. 

Instead, Vic focuses on observing Julie. Her eyes are stunningly blue, and Vic wonders if they’ll change color. Julie has a shock of bright red hair. She’s cute, as far as newborns go. She’s cute and small and almost perfect. And Vic can’t help but wonder why someone, anyone would abandon such a beautiful little girl. There has to be a reason, Vic knows this. People don’t leave their children on the steps of a firehouse without a reason behind it. But it doesn’t change the fact that somebody _did_ leave Julie behind, and Julie is going to have to live with that for the rest of her life. 

The door to the station opens and Vic looks up. It’s the fire chief. Vic shoots up, her back ramrod straight in her chair. The rapid change startles Julie, who protests by letting out a soft whimper. 

“Easy, easy,” Ripley says softly. He looks different than he does usually. He’s wearing his uniform shirt and tie, but he looks more casual than Vic has ever seen him. Granted, she’s only seen him a handful of times: the fire academy graduation and during high profile fires and incidents, but still, he looks different. Vic has figured they were sending a fire officer, but she had assumed it was going to be a Battalion Chief or someone else, not the Fire Chief. 

As if he could read her mind, Ripley speaks . “Frankel’s at an apartment fire and Sanders is on vacation. I’m the officer on call,” Ripley explains. 

“Dispatch said they were sending someone out,” Vic says. She nods at the baby who has since calmed. “Someone left a baby here about a half hour ago. I checked her over. She seems healthy. She’s breathing. Her mom or whoever left her left some formula and a note.”

Ripley looks at the baby, and his features soften. Vic has again only met Ripley a handful of times, but this is the first time that she’s seen him looking so soft. He looks attractive almost. 

“Her name is Julianna,” Vic finishes. 

“May I?” Ripley asks, holding out his arms for the baby. 

Vic nods and quickly but carefully hands the baby over to him, relieved to be free from the responsibility or having to hold her. 

“Hello, little one,” Ripley says, and it’s weird and almost unsettling to see the Fire Chief cooing at an infant. 

“I don’t know what dispatch told you, but social services said it was going to be quite the wait,” Vic babbles nervously. “They’re swamped and overworked and it’s late-“ Vic checks her watch. “Early actually.” 

“I can help for a few hours,” Ripley says. “Frankel has the apartment fire under control and barring any extenuating circumstances, we should be fine.” 

“That’s good,” Vic says, watching as a Ripley gently sways the baby. Julie coos softly at him. “You’re probably better with babies than I am.” 

“You weren’t so bad,” Ripley says easily, looking up at Vic. “She wasn’t screaming her head off when I walked in, so that’s always a good sign.” 

_His eyes are so blue,_ Vic’s brain notes. And Ripley’s eyes were indeed a bright and stunning blue, brighter even, than baby Julie’s eyes. 

“Babies just want to be held,” Vic says with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter by whom.” 

“Sometimes it does,” Lucas says, and he softly tickles Julie’s chest, eliciting another soft coo from her. 

“Sometimes it does,” Vic says. “She probably wants to be held my her mom.” It comes out more spiteful than she intended and Vic blinks. 

Ripley’s face changes a little, his features hardening some. “We don’t know her full situation,” he says. 

“She left her baby in the cold in the middle of the night. She didn’t even know if anyone was here and she just walked away,” Vic says, her voice thick with emotion. And _this_ was why Vic didn’t want to think too hard about this baby and the fact that she abandoned or surrender or whatever term she’s supposed to use. It brought too much to the surface. 

“Maybe it was a difficult decision for her,” Ripley replies. His voice is also a little harsher than it was previously. “Or maybe she was in a rough place.” 

Vic feels anger rising within her. "But situation aside, she still left her child! She abandoned them, and now that if she's lucky, Julie might get adopted, and it might be by a family that loves her, but she's still going to grow up and wonder why she wasn't good enough."

Ripley flinches, almost as if he's been punched, and Vic realizes belatedly that she may have been yelling. The baby starts to fuss too, startled by the loud noise.

"Sorry," Vic says, deflating a little. "I should've have yelled I just..." she trails off.

"You're passionate," Ripley supplies, gentling shaking the baby. "I can understand that."

"It's not just that," Vic says quickly. "It's personal for me. My birth mom relinquished me to my parents, and I love my parents; they're incredible, but I always wondered why I wasn't good enough for my birth mom, and I _know_ that it wasn't my fault but sometimes my brain isn't rational about it." Her words all come out in a rapid fire blur and she has to force herself to breathe when she's done speaking. "I just, I feel all this and my mom planned to give me to my parents. I couldn't imagine what I would feel like if my mom just left me at a fire station."

Ripley's face is soft, almost-

"I don't need your pity," Vic clarifies sharply at the look on Ripley's face. "I was just explaining why I was _passionate_ about this."

"I-"

Ripley's reply is cut off by Julie's shrill cry. It's loud. She cries for a minute, even as Lucas rocks her gently.

"She's probably hungry," Ripley suggests, speaking louder over the sound of Julie's wails. "I don't know how long she's been here, but it might be time for her to eat something."

Vic nods and grabs the bag that Julie's mom left . "We should go upstairs and make her a bottle."

Ripley nods his agreement, and the two of them turn toward the stairs and walk to the kitchen.

Vic doesn't know how to care for babies, so she carefully scrutinizes the formula can on the counter. Ripley, on the other hand, shifts Julie onto one arm and grabs a small pot. He fills it up with water and places it on the stove.

Still using the one hand, he grabs the baby bottle and a bottle of water from the fridge. He pours the water into the bottle and then reaches for the formula. Vic hands it to him, in awe of how efficient the Chief of the Seattle Fire Department is with a baby.

He scoops and levels the formula and then places three scoops into the bottle. Then, he returns the cap onto the bottle, screws is on tight, and shakes it. Meanwhile, the water on the stove has started to steam, so Ripley pulls it from the stove and places it on the counter. He settles the bottle in the water.

Julie is still crying and if anything, her screams have gotten louder, but Ripley seems unfazed.

"I know you're hungry," Ripley coos to her softly. "Your bottle has got to get warm. You won't like a cold bottle, Miss Julianna. I know you won't."

It's almost as if Vic isn't here. Lucas Ripley is an entirely different person, just as efficient as he is while doing incident command, but somehow soft and tender. It's... weird.

The bottle heats up, and Lucas deems it sufficient as he squirts it onto his hand. He gently coaxes it into the baby's mouth, and Julie's wailing abates as she begins to drink.

Ripley looks up, seeming to only just notice that Vic has been staring at him.

"What?" He asks.

"You're just really good at that," Vic says.

"Thanks," Ripley says, a light blush on his cheeks.

"Do you have kids?" Vic blurts. She regrets it near immediately, especially when Ripley's face falls.He looks so dejected that Vic wishes she could take her question back. 

"I don't have any kids of my own. I raised my twin nephews for the first year of their life," he explains. "It's hard with two. One is a piece of cake when you think about it." 

There's a story behind in, based on Ripley's face and the fact that he very pointedly staring at Julie, but Vic isn't going to press. 

Instead, she says, "Two babies must've been difficult." 

"More than you know," he says, and his voice is thick with emotion. Ripley draws in a deep and shuddering, gently shaking Julie as he does so. "My little sister dropped her twin boys off at my house one night. She just, she asked if I take care of them, and then she left." The emotion in his voice has grown. "She died by suicide later that night. I'll never know why she left her boys. She just felt like she had no choice. They live with my older sister now. She was in school when Sophie died but she graduated and got everything settled. She had a set schedule and a steady job and she was in a better place than I was. The boys are 6 now, and they're doing good for themselves despite everything." 

"That's-" Vic doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about what I said about Julie's mom earlier." 

"You don't have to apologize," Ripley says. "Your feelings are valid and you're allowed to feel whatever you want about the situation, especially given your connection to it." 

Vic smiles lightly at him and then she stares at the baby in his arms. 

"Can I? Can I hold her?" She asks. 

Ripley nods. He gently pulls the bottle from Julie's mouth, much to her chagrin. She fusses a bit, but Julie relaxes into Vic's arms. Vic takes the bottle and gently presses it into the baby's mouth. 

Julie sucks greedily on the bottle and Vic has to smile at her tiny face. Babies are fragile and terrifying and... precious. 

Lucas steps into the hallway, and he's a sufficient distance away that Vic knows he's trying to give her some privacy. "Hi Julianna," Vic says, and she's crying before she can stop it. "That's a big name, but I'm sure you'll grow into it. You're a really cute kid, and I bet your mom loved you a lot, and I'm sure it broke her heart to leave you here. It's not gonna be easy, growing up, but try to remember that sometimes we don't have the whole story, and everything isn't as it seems." 

She looks up at Ripley. He had surprised her. He had seemed so harsh, so incapable of emotion. And yet, in the light of the hallway, he looks so vulnerable, and in a way, it's beautiful. 

"Hello?" A voice calls out, jolting Vic from her quiet reflection. 

"That's probably the social worker," Ripley says. "We're upstairs," Ripley calls out, walking toward the stairs. 

A moment later, he returned with a smartly dressed woman with her hair in a bun.

Ripley takes a moment to explain everything as he gathers Julie's meager belongings. 

"You're the one that found her?" the social worker asks. 

Vic nods. "Someone knocked on the firehouse door, but by the time I got downstairs, she was completely alone. Her mom left a note with her name and birth information, but that's it."

The social worker frowns. “We’ve arranged for an emergency placement for her. We’ll have to run things through the county to be sure that there’s no family willing to take her in. Her name and birth information helps tremendously.” She holds out her hands for Julie. 

Vic knows that the social worker cares. She wouldn’t be in this profession if she didn’t care, but Vic wonders if she’s going to take good care of Julie. She doesn’t want her to be just another number in the system. She hands Julie over carefully. Julie’s eyes have started to drift shut, and she’ll be asleep in no time. She’s going to wake in a new place with new people, but perhaps she will find a forever home. 

“Hello, beautiful,” the social workers coos. “I hear you’ve had a long day. It’s time for you to get some rest.” 

Vic smiles and she can feel tears pricking at her eyes. 

“Bye, Julie,” she says softly. 

“Bye, Julianna,” Lucas says. 

“Thank you for taking care of her,” the social worker says.”We’re swamped this time of year, and it’s good to know that she was in good hands.” 

“It wasn’t a problem,” Vic says. “I hope things work out for her.” 

The social worker smiles softly. “Me too,” she says. She turns and walks down the stairs.

Vic stares after her until she hears the door chime. 

She turns to Ripley. “Is it weird, if I, uh, hug you right now?” And Vic regrets asking because it _is_ weird to ask if you can hug your boss. Your boss’s boss’s boss.

“Sure,” Lucas says, much to Vic’s relief, because the only thing that would make this situation weirder is him declining a hug.

Vic hugs him abruptly, and he stumbles back a little before he hugs back. He’s taller than her, tall enough that she can hear the thudding of his heartbeat. Vic relaxes for a moment, overwhelmed by the emotion of the day. It’s odd, hugging your boss, but right now Vic sees Ripley as a less of a boss and more as a person, a vulnerable, kind, incredible person and a person that she’s happy to hug.

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, you know what they say, life imitates art or whatever. I'm really feeling this right now. As I was finishing this fic, I got a phone call from my Mom. The parent of one of the kids I've babysat and worked with died by suicide yesterday. She left behind four incredible kids (ranging from 11 months to 5 years) who now have to live with this grief. Please keep them in your thoughts. So, yeah... 
> 
> Um... yeah...


End file.
